


I'm Not Doing This

by Jude81



Series: Tumblr Prompts [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Humor, but not really gross, ewww gross
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 12:56:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17203820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jude81/pseuds/Jude81
Summary: Clarke is dismayed to learn she has to participate in certain clan traditions.Prompt: I'm not doing this.





	I'm Not Doing This

“I’m not doing this.” 

“Clarke. It is important that you do this. It is expected of us.” 

“Nope. Not doing it. And you can’t make me do it.” 

Except she could, because she was the Heda of the twelve clans, and no one said not to Heda, except for one Clarke Griffin. And Clarke had a habit of saying no, and Lexa had a habit of accepting that Clarke was going to do what she wished, when she wished. And normally it wasn’t an issue, until today. 

Lexa sighed and brought her hand up to rub at her forehead to keep the building headache at bay, but she thought better of it, instead letting her hand drop to the armrest of her throne. 

She glanced out over the crowd, a small smile flitting about her lips at the sight of her people scattered around the fires and tables, laughing and talking, drinking, and spilling their ale. The dogs scurried about in the great hall, chased by fat children, as they scrambled for scraps and bones tossed their way. 

She could see flashes of color throughout the crowd, representing each of the clans, and she was relieved to see that no fights had broken out yet, possibly because no one was drunk enough yet, or because she had taken great pains to make sure that the Ice Nation wasn’t sitting next to the Floukru or Shining Forest Clan. 

She picked up her cup, letting the wine wet her throat, before setting the cup down again. She needed to appear as if she were drinking, but she needed to keep her wits about her. A drunk Heda was a dead Heda. 

She turned her attention back to Clarke, the skin around her eyes tightening as she took in Clarke’s visage, the plump lips pressed together too tightly, making her look like a grumpy cat. 

She sighed. The Feast of Thirteen had been underway for two hours now, and as was customary when a new clan was brought officially into the alliance, they threw a huge feast in Polis. Each clan brought with them a delicacy of their clan, and if their delicacies weren’t in season, then a staple of their food. Each dish was presented to Heda and the thirteen ambassadors who sat at the long table on the dais. 

Clarke sat on her right, a place of prominence that each ambassador understood. Clarke was also Heda’s chosen, and it fell upon her to lead by example. 

“Clarke,” she breathed a warning. The Shining Forest ambassador had already looked at Clarke twice, his countenance changing from concern to growing annoyance. 

“You are being rude, and the ambassadors are starting to notice. I know you don’t want to do this, but we don’t need a war.”

“A war?” Clarke scoffed, looking at Lexa with bemusement upon her face that quickly changed to worry. “Wait. You’re serious? My refusal to do this could start a war?”

“The Shining Forest clan is rather hot tempered, and they are closely allied to Luna’s clan. And while Luna owes me her allegiance, her husband is from the Shining Forest.” 

Clarke gulped and nodded. This wasn’t so hard. She could do this. She looked down at her plate, her stomach turning over, and she felt bile bubble in her belly. She whimpered and gripped Lexa’s hand under the table, thankful that the long clothes draped to the floor and hid her action. 

Lexa squeezed her hand gently and leaned over whispering in her ear, pressing a soft kiss to her earlobe. “It’s easier if you just pick it up and bite into it quickly. You don’t have to eat it all. But at least half.” 

Clarke nodded and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “I can do this. I ate the Trikru bear stew, the Blue Cliff flower relish,” she turned to Lexa, “That was actually really good on Luna’s whitefish fillets.” She turned back to her plate, biting back the whimper. 

“You can do this, Clarke. Hey you even ate the Ice Nation blubber.” 

Lexa smiled and nodded. “Yes, Clarke, if you can eat the blubber from the whales they hunt, you can eat this.” It was a lie, but one she told with a straight face. The blubber was far easier to handle than this. 

Lexa straightened and picked up the beetle from her plate. It was the size of her palm, and she wasn’t particularly fond of this delicacy. She made a show of taking a huge bite, not even wincing when the spindly legs scraped her throat. She chewed thoroughly, not rushing it, knowing the ambassadors were watching out of the corners of their eyes. 

She set her beetle down, wiping at the yellow juice oozing from her mouth. She swallowed and then licked her fingers, pretending that her fingers were coated in a different kind of delicacy. 

“It tastes nutty. This is the worst of it.” It was another lie. They still had the Horse clan’s delicacy to get through. Clarke was never going to speak to her again. 

Clarke gingerly picked it up, trying not to look at the beetle’s face. She moved it around, unsure how to bite into it, wishing she was anywhere but here.

“Clarke kom Skaikru, it is sometimes easier if you tear off the legs first.” 

Clarke twisted in her seat to look at the woman on her right, the ambassador for the Plains Clan. She nodded and gingerly pulled on one of the legs, blushing when she heard the ambassador chuckle. 

The woman reached over and took the beetle from Clarke, wrapping her other hand around the small legs on one side and tearing them off in once twist. “Like that. Here.” She handed it back to Clarke, gesturing for Clarke to do the same and twist off the legs. 

It took her two attempts, but the beetle was now legless on her plate. Darkish brown with a large head and beady eyes. Her stomach gurgled in protest, but she grabbed it anyway, her mind spinning a new mantra as she readied herself to take the first bite. 

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. 

She almost gagged around the mouthful of juice and exoskeleton. It crunched beneath her teeth and scraped her gums. She willed herself to keep chewing, counting each chew. She grabbed her cup, draining it of wine in two gulps. 

Lexa smiled a little and passed Clarke her napkin. She had seen the wet salt in Clarke’s eyes, and she couldn’t help the bloom of pride that she had managed to do it. 

“Well done, Clarke.” 

“I fucking hate you,” snarled Clarke as she coughed into her napkin. “And it isn’t nutty. It’s horrifying,” she muttered behind her napkin as she wiped her chin of the oozing juice. 

She coughed again, her fist against her chest. “Fuck. Something is stuck,” she whimpered. She took a deep breath, coughing harshly just as she felt a hard thwack between her shoulder blades. She twisted around and glared up at Anya’s smirking face. 

“Finish up your beetle, Clarke. The Horse Clan is anxious for you to try their favorite summer dish.”

She narrowed her eyes at Anya, worried at how much delight Anya appeared to be taking in giving her the news. She turned worried eyes to Lexa who was staring at her, her eyes slightly wide, her nostrils flaring. 

Clarke felt her stomach drop. It was going to get worse. 

“B-but you said…” She growled as Lexa lowered her eyes slightly. She could say nothing as Lexa turned her attention to the ambassador on her left, probably happy to escape Clarke’s impending wrath. 

She took one more bite, barely managing to swallow it, and struggling even more to keep it down. She was relieved when one of Lexa’s handmaidens immediately whisked away the plate with the rest of the beetle. She was even more relieved when another handmaiden refilled her cup with wine. 

She was careful not to gulp it this time, sipping it slowly until it finally drowned out the taste of the beetle. Her relief was short lived, and another plate was placed in front of her. 

She stared down at the small glistening piece of…flesh? Her nose crinkled at the smell. 

“It’s a slice of raw horse’s brain, Clarke, served on a cracker made out of flour and pig intestine,” Anya whispered in her ear before laughing quietly and stepping back behind Clarke’s chair. 

“I’m not doing this.” 


End file.
